Swing Low Sweet Chariot
by AliLamba
Summary: Complete, LoVe AU retelling of 2x13 / After a Kissing Booth job gone bad, only one thing stands between Veronica Mars and getting back together with her ex-boyfriend: three hours with a very amorous Logan Echolls.
1. Chapter 1

**SWING LOW SWEET CHARIOT by AliLamba  
>notes: <strong>mysilverylining made me do it. Then nightlocktime made me finish it.  
><strong>rated T<strong> for language and stuff.

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><p>Veronica thinks she's figured out the absolute worst thing about Neptune High.<p>

It isn't the rampant hormonal teenagers, or the politics, the backstabbing, the homophobia, or the crimes against humanity… _No_.

It's…the school festivals.

"I'm signed up for _what?_"

Madison Sinclair is grinning at her in a way Veronica's seen a cartoon cat grin at a cartoon canary.

"Kissing booth," Madison declares again, brushing a wave of fake blond hair over her shoulder. She purses her glossed lips in a deeply satisfied way, gathers what's left of her supplies and stands from her sign-up booth. When she plucks a sheet of paper from her stack and hands it over, Veronica accepts it blindly.

"Enjoy the herpes, Veronica Mars."

Madison escapes with some gaggling girlfriends, but Veronica doesn't watch them go.

She clenches her jaw together so firmly she thinks it might be permanently locked. She'll have to eat through a straw.

_Kissing booth? _Yeah right. Yeah freaking right. As if anyone ever _did_ anything like that anymore. The piece of paper inexplicably crumples in her fist, her fingers tugging it into a tightly wadded ball of bright salmon-colored paper.

Veronica glares down the hall in the direction of the principal's office. It's almost the end of lunchtime, but she knows where Principal Clemmons eats his egg salad sandwich.

A few months ago, the school secretary learned to ignore Veronica Mars unless specifically addressed with a question. It just wasn't worth the induced headache. Veronica swings open her principal's inner office door like an angry little dust devil.

"_Kissing booth?_" she seethes, catching Clemmons mid-chew. A piece of tomato falls out of the corner of his mouth.

He rights himself quickly enough, putting aside his lunch and wiping his mouth with a napkin. When he looks her in the eye again he's composed himself, putting her fury in context.

"It's kissing on the _cheek_, Miss Mars."

Veronica curls her arms around her chest and fixes him with a glare. "Still."

Principal Clemmons sighs and casts a longing glance at his lunch. "Still _what_ Miss Mars? Or is this where you suddenly feel like explaining to me how your permanent file went missing for three days?"

Veronica's frown softens. Everyone is entitled to a few bad ideas, right? She'd just wanted to know what it said in case she had to defend herself on a college application. But then of course there had been that incident with the raccoon and the silly putty, and well… Clemmons had tried to add a line item to her file without knowing the manila folder with her name on it was in Veronica's sock drawer back at home. Hence the mandatory sign up for the Valentine's Day fair, hence being at the mercy of Madison Sinclair, hence the kissing booth that apparently meant she'd have to buy a gallon of cheek wash.

"You know I'm going to make no money whatsoever. No one at this school is going to want to pay to kiss me."

He opens his mouth to correct her.

"Even on the cheek!" she adds, frustrated.

Principal Clemmons sets his mouth in a grim line. "I'm sure I do not think about my student's proclivities for kissing even in the slightest, Miss Mars. I'm sure everything will be fine. And if you'd like a change of assignment, feel free to bring it up with Miss Sinclair, because it's up to her. For now, there will be mandatory school functions until you feel like being more forthcoming with information about the raccoon."

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><p>Veronica tugs her beanie further down her ears. She looks left, then looks right, and then skips through the alley between booths. The one she's been assigned to is tucked toward the middle, which frustrates her. She's also been the subject of her classmate's promotional materials to advertise the fair for the past two days, which frustrates her more.<p>

More than once she'd almost given into the temptation and begged Madison Sinclair for a different assignment. She thought of volunteering to do clean-up at midnight. Or taking care of the animal farm. Or being this year's dunk girl. Anything to avoid skeevy guys in the hall puckering their lips at her in passing, promising to do something gross when the opportunity came.

Veronica turns the corner to her part of the fair, and then catches a hand to her chest in relief.

"_Ohthankgod_," she expels under her breath.

Duncan Kane is there to save her at last.

Her shoulders relax, and her back slumps, and Veronica practically drags her feet as she walks to the bright pink booth decorated with hearts and flowers.

"I was starting to think I'd actually have to do this," Veronica jokes, drawing Duncan's attention. They'd been flirting for a few weeks, and all signs were pointing to the fact that they'd probably be getting back together soon. It couldn't come soon enough, as far as Veronica was concerned.

Duncan smiles when he sees her, but he doesn't say anything. And then he does this confusing thing where he presses his lips together, raises his eyebrows, and shrugs as if to say…

"_No_," Veronica gapes. "You too?"

Duncan laughs. "They had to have a guy volunteer. I thought, this way…I could protect you."

Veronica leans back on her heels and crosses her arms over her chest. She wants to say something persnickety like _Protect me from guys with cheek fetishes?_ but she decides against it. It's sweet of him to want to protect her like this, and again she feels that fluttering in her belly because Duncan, the nicest guy she knows, has an obvious crush on her.

Duncan checks his watch. "Well, I guess we should get ready," he says, and Veronica checks her own watch and has to agree. She makes her way behind their booth, finding their cash box (decorated with fuzz balls and cupid stickers, naturally), and the pair of stools for them to sit on. Duncan takes his own and checks his breath, tugging his crisp collar against his neck.

Veronica can smell his cologne, and it makes her feel uncomfortable because now she knows that despite the fact that this is a school function, and it doesn't mean anything, she's dressed up a little too.

Veronica shrugs out of her zip-up hoodie and takes off her beanie. It's a warm night, so she's only got on the sort of tank top with spaghetti straps to go with her jeans and strappy sandals. She takes her stool, and slides her lips together to make sure her chapstick is still on. She'd gone with the one that's tinted because she wants proof in case anyone decides to get frisky.

Her eyes san the grounds, as if someone is going to pounce on her already. Her shoulders are hunched, and her muscles are unconsciously tensed.

"Got a breath mint?"

Duncan was sometimes really good at breaking the tension. Veronica laughs under her breath, and pulls out a tiny cassette of tic-tacs.

She pours one into his palm, and then she pours one into her own. "Here's hoping we don't even need these," she toasts, and they take their mints together.

Duncan checks his watch a few seconds later. "I think the doors are going to open soon," he says. He looks her over, and offers her a small, reassuring smile. "You look nice."

Veronica feels her cheeks warm a little. It's an unexpected compliment. "Thanks," she says, and she smiles shyly in return. "You too."

The ambient music starts up in the speakers littered throughout the fair, and they both know the time has come.

"Here we go…" Duncan says ominously, and Veronica swallows against her dry throat.

Fifty-seven minutes later, and there is a meeting of the worlds in front of the Neptune High Kissing Booth.

Duncan's line is filled with the prettiest, bravest girls in school, all jockeying for position as they spray themselves with perfume and reapply lip gloss.

Veronica's line is filled with all the boys who have never kissed a girl in real life. Over the internet, sure. Lifelike dolls, of course. Real, flesh and blood females? They were about to get their shot.

"It's five dollars, Steven," Veronica is saying, trying to dissuade Steven Barnam from trying to kiss without paying…again.

"Oh. Right," he says, digging through his pockets with sweaty fingers, pushing his glasses up his nose with pennies stuck to his palms.

Veronica sighs internally, and turns her cheek to accept his mouth after accepting his money. She winces when he throws some tongue in with his dry lips, and she has to curl her fingers against her thighs so as not to pull back right away.

"That was good, Steven, thanks!" she says, a little too abruptly. She pulls back and tries to ignore the way he looks dazed, like he's just had the best experience of his life. Steven wanders away looking lost in the clouds.

Veronica checks to see who's behind him, and is relieved to see no one else in her line. Then she looks to where Duncan is sitting next to her, and how he's flirting shamelessly with some girl from Veronica's PE class whose name Veronica cannot recall at the moment. Maybe she can't recall the girl's name because the girl is fingering Duncan's lapel as if they're on their third date rather than their third kiss on the cheek.

Veronica sighs and looks to Duncan's line, which is still filled with at least twenty breathless females waiting for their turn.

She drums her fingers along her thighs and debates what to do with her time. She brought some homework with her…is it too lame to do homework in public these days?

"_Well I do declare_," a voice cries out. "I believe I see a lady left all on her lonesome."

Veronica narrows her eyes at Logan as he makes his way through the crowd in her direction.

_Of course._

"What do you want Logan?"

He emerges with a small group of hangers on: Dick, Beaver, Sean, Luke and Brett, a few doting girlfriends tagging behind. Not the people she'd most like to run into these days, not anywhere. Least of all a place where they can openly humiliate her, like here.

"Well I just wanted to make sure you weren't being accosted by the perviest of Neptune High." He makes a grand show of looking around, trying to find the people who are interested in kissing her. "Looks like my work here is done."

"Yeah, Logan, I get it," she says, casting a sideways glance to make sure no one else is coming out of the woodwork. She's pretty sure she just saw John Needlemyer take one look at Logan and turn tail. "And I wish I could make your night by being disappointed with the lack of turn out, but I'm not."

"Lack of turn out?" he asks, as if standing in front of an audience. For all intents and purposes, with friends like his, Logan basically has one all the time. "Oh, but Miss Veronica Mars how you doubt our school spirit!"

Before she's able to rally a response, Logan slips a folded five dollar bill from his pocket and waves it through the air like a magic wand.

"I do believe this is the going rate?"

Veronica grits her teeth and stares into Logan's dark eyes.

"Leave her alone, Logan."

Everyone's a little surprised to hear Duncan intervene, not least of all Becky Foggler, who was just puckering her lips for Duncan's freshly shaved face.

"It's fine, Duncan," Veronica says, intending to be heard only by her booth mate.

"Yeah, Duncan, it's fine," a new voice says, and then Madison Sinclair is pushing someone aside to be seen by everyone else. "This is what she's signed up for, after all."

"I'm signed up to allow guys to slobber on the side of my face for five bucks a pop," Veronica argues. "Nowhere in my contract does it say I have to put up with Logan's crap."

Madison has a glint in her eye that Veronica doesn't like. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Veronica Mars. You see, I'm controlling this little event, and I say that Logan can pay to do whatever he wants."

Veronica's jaw drops open.

"You can't do that," she protests.

Madison looks purely evil. "Watch me."

Poor Becky Foggler is pouting, but Duncan isn't paying any attention to her. No one is paying attention to Becky Foggler, and all eyes are trained on Veronica Mars and Madison Sinclair, who may or may not engage in an imminent cat fight.

"You can't _do_ that," Veronica insists again.

"Oh," Madison mocks, "would you like me to call Principal Clemmons and ask him? I'm sure he'd love to hear about how you're not participating."

Veronica weighs her options. On the one hand, she really doesn't like the idea that she could potentially be an open target for anyone at her school with a pocketful of cash. She doesn't think her stun gun is adequately charged for that. On the other hand, another week with a clean nose and she gets let off with a warning about the raccoon, and, well…that means something to her these days. Maybe because her school file is so heavy already.

"It's five dollars for a peck on the cheek, Logan," she says to him, and Logan shrugs, as if that's all he wanted in the first place. He drops his bill into the cash box, and leans against her booth.

"We really must stop meeting like this, Miss Mars," he says, which maybe under other circumstances would have made her smirk. Now she simply heaves a small sigh, turns her cheek to him, closes her eyes, and waits.

…And waits.

"Logan if you're going to kiss me—"

She makes the mistake of turning to look at him, and he catches her lips with his mid-word.

Veronica is at first so surprised, her mouth is immobile, pursed around the u-syllable, as in _you better do it soon or…else_. Her eyes are open wide, and his are closed, but then he's drawing her lips into moving with his unintentionally.

Her ears finally unfog, and suddenly Veronica can hear the cat calls, and the whoops coming from all around her. And then before she knows what's happening Logan is being yanked away from her, and before her eyes Duncan is throwing Logan across the pavement and trying to throw a punch at his head. Logan is rallying, and then Duncan and Logan blend into a blur of fist fighting, leaving a wide berth of space around them in the middle of the school fair.

"Hey—" she tries to say, but the muscles around her vocal cord are a few steps in front of her brain, and everything is uncoordinated and functioning erratically. She stands from her stool, thinking she should do something, but she's preoccupied by the lingering sensation of Logan's lips on hers, and how she felt when he kissed her.

"_That's enough!_" an adult voice shouts over the crowd. "That's enough! Break it up, _break it up!_"

It's Principal Clemmons, and he's bringing a stark dose of reality with him. Veronica drops her hand from her lips and squares her shoulders, expecting punishment, or at the very least a direction to go back to her miserable booth job. Maybe she could parlay this into closing the booth for the evening.

"That's enough you two!" Clemmons shouts, pulling Logan off of Duncan, standing in between the two teenagers. Both boys are restless and breathing heavily, eyes locked on each other, clearly itching for more of a fight or regretting the hits they didn't get in before being interrupted.

"What is going _on_ here?" Clemmons asks. Duncan and Logan look each other over.

"It's…it's nothing, Mr. Clemmons," Duncan says first, pulling away and tugging down his dress shirt. Logan similarly shrugs off Clemmons' hand and makes a half-hearted attempt to right his clothes.

"Nothing we couldn't handle Principal Clemmons," Madison adds, sounding sugar sweet. Veronica sneers at her when she thinks Clemmons isn't looking.

"Veronica I hope there's no trouble here," Clemmons says, warningly, and Veronica snaps her lips closed.

"No, everything's fine," she says, and off to their left there's another burgeoning of noise that draws Clemmons' attention. "Just that Madison Sinclair was trying to go above her station—"

"I'm sure it's fine, Miss Mars!" Clemmons says, and it's obvious that he's not listening. A new commotion has clearly broken out halfway across the fair, and he's desperate to resolve this situation and move onto the next. "Just – listen to whatever Miss Sinclair has in mind and I'm sure it'll be fine. Mister Echolls and Mister Kane, it goes without saying that I want to see you in my office _first thing_ Monday morning! Mister Kane, I expected better of you."

"Wait, but!" Veronica protests, but Clemmons is already striding away. Because of his insufferably long legs, the ones that made chasing down delinquents so much easier in his youth, he disappears quickly.

Veronica shuts her eyes tight and her muscles go taut. She doesn't want to look at Madison, but she knows it'll be worse if she tries to ignore the girl.

"Well, Madison?" she says. Veronica opens her eyes and looks into the gleaming eyes of her opponent, fantasies of all the things she could do with pig's blood running through her head. "I sure hope you're planning on being an adult with all this newfound responsibility."

Madison snorts. "Like hell I am. Logan, what do you want."

There are renewed howls from the boys Logan travels with, like wolves in a pack.

Logan pretends to examine his options. He spares a glance at Duncan, who looks like he could start steaming at the ears pretty soon. Duncan's fists are curled against his sides, as if desperate to throw another punch, and Veronica suddenly gets the impression that she's an irrelevant pawn in Logan and Duncan's game.

"Well let's see…how does fifty bucks for some tongue action sound?"

"No, no way, no way in hell—"

"Sounds just fine, Logan," Madison interrupts, and all eyes turn to Veronica Mars, who is standing behind her booth turning red in the face.

Veronica feels their stares. She realizes she has two options: she can run and hide, or she can simply _nut up_.

Veronica closes her eyes, presses her lips together, and breathes very evenly through her nose.

She tries to tell herself that she's fine with all of this. After all, she and Logan have kissed before. They've made out plenty of times. But that was _before_. That was before everything happened with his dad and the goons who still follow him around, and before she'd started dating Duncan again, and before she and Duncan had broken up over a technicality she can't quite remember at the moment.

Veronica opens her eyes and sees Logan stalking toward her, holding up a tight handful of cash that he shoves into her cashbox.

And before she has time to give him any sort of parameters for what he can and cannot do to her, he grabs her by both shoulders and slips his face against hers again.

Their mouths touch, and there's no mistaking his intentions when he starts drawing her lips in tempo with his own, manipulating them open and sliding his tongue against hers. It's a sick ritual made more sickening by the fact that Logan doesn't suck at this. He never has. And like this, in front of everyone, he's no less able to make her forget her surroundings and make her think only what he wants her to think: namely, what he's doing with his mouth. Before she knows it Veronica is kissing back, and Logan is pulling her across the booth and into his arms.

Reality bounces back in when her knees hit the edge of the hard folding table that makes her station. Veronica pulls back on a gasp, realizing her feet are off the ground and that there are people everywhere staring at her locked in a romantic embrace.

Her wide eyes try to see past Logan's shoulders, but then she looks up at his face, and is perhaps more shocked to see the smug look of satisfaction he wears. It's an unnervingly affectionate expression, and it's almost more terrifying than knowing she's just made out in public.

She pulls back, pushing her tiny hands against his chest to get away. Logan lets her go, but a look in his eyes lets her know she won't get far.

"There," she says, wiping at her mouth, her voice sounding shaky even though she's back on solid ground. "Are you satisfied? Are we done yet?"

"You're done," a voice interjects. Veronica and Logan both turn their heads at Duncan's voice. Duncan looks dangerously pissed, his shoulders hunched and his eyes dark. Becky Foggler is still harrumphing around his side of the booth as if still expecting to get her turn.

"Oh, I'm not sure the lady's _done_," Logan drawls. Veronica realizes he still has a hand on the small of her back, and she pushes him away with gusto until he's a few staggered steps away from her booth.

"I uh, I believe that's up to me?" Madison says, her voice sounding small, like she didn't ask for all the responsibility she's been given. Everyone looks to her, while she pretends to make up her mind.

"And I say that Logan can spend his money however he wants."

Logan grins like he's been given the keys to his daddy's new car. Duncan's eyes go wide, and he squares his shoulders intimidatingly. His nostrils flare, as if he'd really like to throw another punch, but his brain is short-circuiting in an attempt to override the impulse.

"Well I guess you couldn't get her to kiss you any _other_ way, now could you!"

It's a challenge, and everyone knows it. And because they're all in high school and don't know any better, all of Logan's friends find this impressive. _Ooohs_ echo from all around the two male teens, much to Madison Sinclair's sheer delight.

"Duncan—" Veronica tries to say, but no one's paying much attention to her anymore.

"Five hundred bucks!" Logan calls out, staring directly into Duncan's eyes. "For the rest of the night with her. And if I can't get her to kiss me for real before the end of the night, then I'll give another five hundred to you." He dips his head in some weird sense of ritual, never breaking eye contact with his former friend. "Good sir."

Duncan presses his lips together and shakes his head distractedly, and Veronica knows he's searching his mind for any reason to say no to Logan's terms. It's a stupid idea, and Veronica feels stupidly caught in the middle of it.

"Fine."

Veronica swings her head to look at Duncan, and it makes her realize she'd been looking at Logan. "What?" she yells. She turns to look at Madison, who looks on the verge of cackling with glee.

"No, look, my booth, I can't just leave my booth—"

"I'll take over your booth," Madison supplies, a noticeable skip in her step as she sashays to Veronica's empty stool. She primps her hair, and immediately a long line of boys amasses right in front of her. Madison looks pointedly at Veronica. "You have fun sweetheart."

"Duncan—" Veronica says again, reaching out to her ex-boyfriend, the one who has a crush on her, the one who she wishes she was already in a relationship with because then none of this would be happening…

Duncan is smirking at Logan. "It's fine, Veronica," he says, and his intentions are obvious. He doesn't think Logan has it in him to woo her, and Duncan wants the proof of that. If it means essentially whoring out Veronica to prove his own dominant masculinity, then so be it.

Veronica frowns. She feels a helpless frustration churning in her belly, and she shakes it off with upturned hands. "Fine!" she shouts. "Fine." She bends at the waist and grabs her shoulder bag, throwing it over her arm with a glare at Madison's perfect profile.

"Enjoy the herpes, Madison Sinclair," Veronica taunts, but the insult seems to bounce right off the other girl.

"Enjoy your _date_, Veronica Mars. I'm sure it'll be the only one you get this year."

Veronica rolls her eyes in helpless disgust. When she walks around the booth, trying to shake off the feelings of ickiness that accompany one of the few people on this earth Veronica has the good pleasure to _loathe_, she finds two men watching her. Duncan and Logan look a little ruffled, but no worse for wear. Duncan looks like he'll have half a black eye in the morning, and Logan looks like he lost a few buttons, but they're undeniably handsome men and they're both looking at her.

What's curious here is the change of roles. Duncan usually looks so friendly and inviting, but now he looks cold and guarded. Logan is now the one holding a hand out to her, smiling softly, as if he's happy to see her. She glances at Duncan strangely, and then ignores Logan's outstretched hand.

"She'll tell the truth, you know," Duncan says to Logan, not taking his eyes off Veronica. "If you can't get her to kiss you, she'll say so."

Veronica frowns, confused by this attitude of his.

Logan finds Veronica's hand and kisses her knuckles. "I don't doubt it," he says, and then he pulls her against his torso, and slides an arm around her waist. He starts walking away, compelling Veronica to follow.

"See you in three hours!" Logan calls out, using his free hand to salute the air at his passing. Veronica looks over her shoulder in time to see Duncan stalk back to his booth, and to a slightly deflated looking Becky Foggler.


	2. Chapter 2

**SWING LOW SWEET CHARIOT, chapter two by AliLamba  
><strong>**notes** So you have probably guessed by now that this fic is a big take on Ain't No Magic Mountain High Enough. We were talking on tumblr about how awesome it would've been to see Logan turning his nuclear charm on Veronica in that episode, hence, all this. Fingers crossed it worked half as well as the plot bunny on crack in my mind.

* * *

><p>It takes another few steps for Veronica to shake off the strange feelings of confusion she'd had back in front of her booth, and few more to reclaim feelings of righteous indignation.<p>

"Why do I feel like I've just been bought and sold," she gripes, and Logan chuckles softly. It seems unlike him to sound so light-hearted, but when Veronica looks up at his face, the affection seems natural. Again she gets this unnerving feeling, but she comes to the conclusion that Logan is playing her, pretending to be all affable and loving, because he wants to win a bet. And she has to let him try.

Veronica pushes off of him so she can walk on her own, and pulls her shoulder bag more securely against her body.

"This is going to be a long three hours for you, buddy," she warns. They're passing some of the bigger booths, the kind that requires upright walls. She knows this because Logan suddenly pushes her in-between two of them, pulling them out of the direct stream of fair-goers so he can trap her body in an enclosed space.

He takes one soft look at her eyes, and Veronica's heart starts beating faster. He looks down at her lips, and Veronica feels warmth pool in her cheeks. _He's going to kiss me again._

He waits only a second, and then Logan tips his head forward, eyes downcast, so there's no missed intentions.

"Logan—" Veronica says, and she is so proud of herself for being able to say it. "Stop," she adds, because she can. She turns her head away, and takes a deep mouthful of air.

"You're going to have to try a hell of a lot harder than that," she says, sounding more like herself and not like some breathy idiot swept up in a kiss. There isn't enough room in their small alley for a tuba player, let alone two people being inconsistently amorous.

Logan's voice is quiet, for her ears only. "Then let me."

She turns and glares at him. Her cheeks are still pink from their close contact. "No, I'm talking rohypnol harder." Veronica slides sideways, away from Logan's body, finding her way back to the crowds. Logan follows her. She talks over her shoulder, confident he's no more than a few feet behind. "From what I understand I am under no obligation to kiss you anymore. My only obligation for the next…" she checks her watch. "Two hours and fifty-one minutes is to be within the vicinity of you. And I'm pretty sure I even have a book in here," she says, patting her shoulder bag. "And I think it's a good one. You have your work cut out for you."

Logan ducks into her way, and starts walking backward so they can still converse face to face. "Ah, a challenge," he says. How he manages to act cocky and avoid walking into other people she'll never know, but it makes her nervous, so she stops walking to hear what he has to say. "I believe it's my obligation for the next two hours and fifty-one minutes to get you to _want_ to kiss me, Miss Veronica Mars. And I do believe that there was a time you found me very persuasive."

Veronica rolls her eyes, and starts walking around him, so he can fall in at her elbow. "Yeah right. You had it easy back then."

Logan grins. "So I did. And maybe you never got to see me _try_. Most girls find me irresistible, I hate to say."

Veronica snorts. "Right. You just have to swat them away with a stick, don't you."

Logan steps in front of her again, making her stop short and look up at him. He's staring down his nose and into her eyes. His eyes are darker somehow, pleading with her to look and identify their color. And without better judgment, she does. They're a curious shade of warm brown, almost like molten milk chocolate, but with flecks of amber and green. Veronica notices the shape of his lips too, the tiny indent below his nose, and her breath stills in her throat.

"So," Veronica says, and her voice is raspy all of a sudden, as if she's legitimately almost breathless. "So this is you trying?"

Logan's gaze travels to her lips again, and Veronica feels a tiny rush sing through her veins.

It's true. Some people call her a marshmallow. But even marshmallows have strength before they melt in fire, and it is something akin to this strength that Veronica pulls on now.

"You'll have to try harder then."

She sidesteps Logan's imposing frame and continues to walk blindly through the crowd of attendants, trying to stamp down a flame that is licking at her cheeks.

"Oh, Veronica," Logan sighs, catching up to her. She doesn't look at him. They're silent for a moment, both lost with their own thoughts. Veronica's thoughts are something like _You idiot you idiot you idiot you idiot._

"You know, actually…I believe I'm remembering a conversation we once had."

Her curiosity is piqued enough to raise an eyebrow in his direction.

"I believe it was once requested that I procure a teddy bear won, out of skill, at an event not dissimilar to this. In fact," Logan walks to the nearest booth, and points up at a fluffy stuffed animal the size of his head. "I do believe this is a teddy bear."

Veronica tries to frown at him. "That's a bunny."

"Is it?" Logan turns his head and finds the bunny's long ears. "Ah, alas, it is. Does this still count should I earn it with my macho manly skills against rigged carnival games?"

Veronica can't help it.

Really, she can't help the way her mouth grins in spite of him, in spite of herself and all her feelings of self-righteousness. Logan has triggered a good memory, from long ago, and if there's anything tonight she'll indulge him in, it's this.

The game involves some sort of floppy frog catapulted onto a rotating lily pad. Veronica looks at the girls standing around the inside of the booth, and notices from their tiny tight t-shirts that they're all from the school track team. They look it, all tall and willowy and…definitely pretty.

Despite the fact that this isn't a date, and that Logan is a man with an agenda, she checks to see if he's noticing them too. Call it a girl thing, but she wants to know how far he's willing to take this charade. Logan hands a few bucks to the nearest tall girl, offers her a wan smile, and then offers Veronica the nearest mallet.

She looks at him placidly. "I believe I said I wanted my bear _won?_"

Logan rolls his eyes quickly and smirks. "Right."

He examines his task, lifts the mallet and thunks it down on his catapult. The rubber froggy bounces into the space between the booth and the pond, missing entirely. Veronica rolls her eyes. "Someone clearly never paid any attention in physics class," she chides.

Logan frowns in a way that lets her know he's a little abashed. "Yeah well I have a tattoo of Newton's second law right over my heart."

Veronica purses her lips. "You know I know that's not true."

Logan's surprised and impressed raised eyebrows, combined with the track girls' giggles, let Veronica know she's revealed something inappropriately intimate. Her cheeks warm.

She ignores the mallet Logan is trying to offer her again, and picks up the next rubber frog instead. She folds it, and puts it on the catapult just so. Veronica glances at the track girls, and see them murmuring to themselves, glancing in Logan's direction. "Try again," she says, backing away. Logan raises an eyebrow at her, pursing his lips as he concentrates on the game, and again thunks his hammer down.

This time the frog flies directly into the pond, tapping the edge of a lily pad before rolling into the surrounding water.

"Ahh, that counts as a win in my book," one of the girls inside the booth says, drawing Logan and Veronica's attention. The willowy girl points to the stuffed toys above her head. "Frog or bunny?" she offers.

Veronica looks at Logan from the corner of her eye. Logan catches her looking. "I think we're into bears these days," he says, his eyes twinkling. The girl looks confused for a second, on the verge of repeating something like _Oh we only have frogs and bunnies_, before Logan gestures vaguely at a rabbit. The girl grabs the first one she sees and offers it to Logan, who takes it, and offers it to Veronica.

Veronica examines the bunny closely, slides her glance to Logan, and then starts walking away. Logan follows suit, standing a little closer than a friend would. Veronica notices.

"I'm not sure that counts as a win," she says, a clear challenge to her voice.

She hears Logan laugh softly again. "Uh, I think the bunny would have to disagree."

"The bunny had help," she points out.

Logan sighs, stops walking, and offers the stuffed rabbit to the first child who walks past him. It's a predictable gesture for a man on a date, but it still works. There's a reason guys still do it. Veronica stops walking to see the way the child's mother smiles approvingly at Logan, and Veronica scoffs under her breath.

"You hungry?" Logan asks, and for irrational reasons her belly tightens. It must be the way he says it in his low, non-mocking tone of voice, or in the way he's asking about her needs. He walks up to her, so their toes stick out at each other, not touching. "I could buy you dinner."

"Dinner?" Veronica echoes. "You realize we're at a school fair, right."

Logan grins, because a date would not have a retort of something snarky, and would let her be the one to snark. So he slips a hand to the small of her back, and guides her gently toward the cotton candy machine, and buys her a ball of pink candy floss as big as a balloon. And when Veronica pulls a piece off and puts it in her mouth, Logan watches her lips chew, knowing the sugar is dissolving on her tongue just so, clear thoughts about sweetness on his mind. She puts the cotton candy aside.

"Hey!" she snaps her fingers at him for emphasis with her free hand. "Cut it out!"

Logan looks purposefully at her lips again in a way that she notices. He leans in a shoulder as if accidentally bringing their bodies closer, and she hates that she instinctively prepares to be kissed. "Cut what out?"

"See that, that right there. Not okay Echolls. Stop it."

His gaze travels to her eyes, and Veronica lets out a breath of relief.

"Why would I want to stop?"

The panic jumps right back in as if she'd left the door open. Veronica's throat feels dry, and she knows she must look the very embodiment of _prey_ in Logan's eyes.

_This is going to be a very long night._ Logan pulls a strand of candy floss off the side of the ball of fluff and sticks it in his mouth, watching her watch him chew. Veronica knows she has to change the tone of their conversation.

"So this is something you do then? You're well practiced in the art of getting reluctant girls to kiss you?"

Logan smirks. "Why, are you interested?"

A flush creeps through her cheeks. She turns her head away. "No."

Logan steals another piece of her cotton candy.

"Well, the first thing you gotta do," he says, and he starts walking again, inviting her to follow, "is get one away from the herd." He pauses to take a very subtle mock bow. "Which I believe I have achieved, magnificently."

Veronica rolls her eyes with gusto now. "Oh yes, magnificently. It only took one brawl, five hundred dollars, and a bet."

He tilts his head to look at her, and a small smile plays across his lips. "You're here now, aren't you?" he asks, and it shuts Veronica up. She's getting a bit confused now. Did he pull the stunt because of her, or because of Duncan? Five minutes ago she was sure the answer was Duncan, but now she's losing focus. Veronica shakes her head to clear it. No, Logan had made a clear bet right in front of her. This is about winning against Duncan, that's all. Nothing to do with her.

"Alright, you're still bear-less," Logan says, and again it's with that low tone of voice that makes her lean closer without realizing it. "Let's try the ring toss."

He leads them over to a different booth, and Veronica finishes her cotton candy while watching Logan win her a bear by tossing five inch rings over the neck of empty old-fashioned cola bottles. She thinks he must have chosen this task on purpose, because he's good at it, and because she has to watch him closely. She decides it could have been worse; he could have shown off on the high striker.

"Cheater," she accuses, softly, throwing away the paper cone that came with the cotton candy, sliding her fingers together because they're sticky.

"Excuse-moi?" he asks, offering her the bear.

"It's not fair if you choose something you're good at already."

Logan looks at the bear as if it will converse with him. "Veronica, a bear is a bear is a bear."

She pulls a finger into her mouth, trying to lick off the remnants of sticky sugar. Logan watches her, and Veronica rolls her eyes and looks away. She talks around her hand. "Sticky," she explains, redundantly. She's half looking for a bathroom when Logan picks up her remaining hand. And because she knows what he's going to do she instinctually tries to pull her hand back, but Logan holds her still, and suddenly he's got two of her fingers inside his own mouth.

The fingers in the pocket of her own cheek drop from her open jaw, and she stares unabashedly as Logan sucks her fingers clean.

He's being careful and meticulous, and it is doing really inappropriate things to her to let him.

_Holy crap_ runs through her head like a mantra. About the fifth time she says it she's able to rip her hand away, cradling it to her chest as she forces herself to glare at him over the sounds of her beating heart.

Logan doesn't look up right away, wiping the corner of his mouth as if there's some amount of gritty sugar still lingering. When he meets her eyes, his are smoldering. "Sweet," he says, and Veronica's stomach flips over ungraciously.

"I need to wash my hands," she announces, and she turns abruptly to flee to the nearest restroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**SWING LOW SWEET CHARIOT chapter three by AliLamba**

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><p>She knows Logan follows her, and it's such a short distance away she's worried he's going to follow her into the girl's bathroom. He doesn't, and as soon as she's relatively alone Veronica heaves a giant sigh of relief.<p>

When she goes to wash her hands in the sink, though, she realizes there's a fine tremor to her fingers. _Crap._ Logan is clearly getting to her and it's not really her proudest moment. Veronica recognizes an instinct to splash water on her face, but she ignores it mostly because her mascara isn't waterproof.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror.

She's worried that brushing off Logan's advances is going to be harder than she thought. Veronica checks her wristwatch. There's still another two hours and twenty-five whole minutes with him, and already she's almost let him kiss her more than twice. _Damn it._

She resolves to try harder. But just _trying harder_ is only half the battle. She needs a _distraction._ She needs something to kill two hours and twenty-five minutes, and she can't spend the entire night in the bathroom. Logan will _definitely_ follow her in if she tries to spend the entire night in the bathroom. Veronica feels her shoulders slump.

When Veronica drags her feet out of the bathroom, she finds Logan leaning against a wall, waiting for her.

The way he's positioned makes her remember how tall and lean he is, and again a flush creeps around her cheeks. She brushes it off again, and walks right past him toward the game booths.

"I want to play some more games," she says. Veronica knows he can hear her because he falls into step next to her, and from the corner of her eye she sees him smirk, detecting a double meaning to her words. Veronica tightens her lips, and stops in front of the booth with softballs.

Logan pays the bored-looking guys operating the game, and Veronica resolves not to care that Logan is paying for this entire evening. _It's his choice, not mine_, she tells herself, trying to stomach some amount of pride. _He can stop any time he wants_.

Veronica picks up a softball, and stares squarely at the grinning, overlarge clown face across from her. She pulls her arm back, and hurls it at the clown's teeth, knocking down two in one go. _Yes._

"Not bad, Mars," Logan whistles, and again he's standing too close. Veronica picks up a second ball, and hurls it again, knocking a third tooth out of the clown's mouth. Two left.

Logan seems to take an interminable step closer.

Veronica picks up her third ball and swivels to face him, a sugar sweet smile on her face. A smile as sweet as cotton candy.

"If you get any closer I am going to hurl this at your head."

Logan breaks out into a grin, but steps back.

When she's sure he's not going to jump her, Veronica turns back toward the clown's bad dental work, takes a deep breath through her nose and mouth, and aims.

And then she misses the teeth entirely.

_Shit_.

"Something on your mind, Mars?" Logan gloats. He drops an arm onto the booth, getting into her line of sight. "Want to play again?" His voice is lower, full of double meaning.

"No."

She turns on her heel and looks for something else to try. One game in, and already she feels vaguely exhausted. But two hours and twenty-five minutes is a marathon, not a sprint, and Veronica just has to keep them moving. _Keep moving, keep moving, don't stare at his mouth – damn it – look away – keep moving – remember what pond scum he is – keep moving._

She can't help feeling like this is going to be a very long night.

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><p>Veronica stares devoutly ahead. She's pretty sure she dropped the purple unicorn about two booths ago, but between the green unicorn, the orange frog, the orange monkey, the oversized snail, and cowboy hat, she's stopped caring about the purple unicorn. Logan looks similarly ruffled; he's trying to juggle the weight of a ten-foot stuffed boa constrictor done up in pink zebra stripes.<p>

They'd been _playing games_ – jumping from one booth to the next, with no pausing to stop for lingering glances, accidental touches, or wetted lips – for about forty-eight minutes now, and Logan is getting impatient. He figured out her ploy the second time she dumped a prize in his arms and zipped next-door.

After the plinko there was the fish pond, and then the target shooting and the milk bottles. After that there was the _Find the hidden marble under one of three cups_ game (too easy, she won three times because Brandon Gleeson couldn't believe she figured out his tells) and the beanbag toss.

Suffice to say, every new prize put another buffer of space between her and Logan, and more of a crimp in Logan's frown.

"Okay, I think we've played enough games," Logan says, breaking Veronica's concentration in finding another distraction. "And I'm not carrying this thing anymore."

They stop next to a kid's playground structure, all fenced in with black mesh so kids can't accidentally wander off should their parents finally find the cocktail bar. Logan dumps the snake next to the children's' shoes, grabs each toy from Veronica's arms and adds them to the pile, and then cups his hands around his mouth.

"_Hey kids! Santa came early!_"

He points to the pile of plush, and then frowns at Veronica, and steers her away.

Veronica puts up a good front in the pouting department, pretending to be annoyed that Logan has robbed her of her bounty. "That unicorn was going in my bed," she protests, weakly. She sees Logan smirk out of the corner of her eye.

"I can put something else in your bed."

Veronica stops, spins toward him, and gasps so her jaw hangs open. "Logan!"

He laughs. "What!" he defends himself. "You left that one pretty wide open."

Veronica purses her lips with a frown. "Still. There are children present." Logan rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, spare the children, whatever. Half these parents are day drunk, and the others are using this as their own personal singles event."

Veronica scans the surrounding area, and has to agree with his assessment. Jason Whittecomb's mom is wearing head to toe leopard print and flaunting it with purpose. The other ladies at the Booster Club's cake walk eye her exposed thighs dubiously.

Veronica and Logan start walking side by side. Veronica knows she's can't drag them into another diversion, in part because they hadn't been working very well anyway. Their hands had touched at the fish pond, he'd made her forget for a millisecond that she hated him while competing side by side at the target practice ("You're only doing so well because you're imagining that duck is Madison's head, right"), and he'd stood over her shoulder at the hidden marble game, genuinely impressed by her observational skills, and laughing authentically when Brandon Gleeson almost shut down the booth in his frustration.

They walk side by side in silence now, and Veronica checks her watch again. Just about an hour and a half left, and she's almost having what could be considered a good time. She sighs.

"C'mon," Logan says, and there is a hint of a wilt around his words. "This isn't _that bad_, right?"

Veronica looks over at him, and she has to tilt her head up because of their difference in height. He looks almost sad, and she can imagine a situation where her adamant rebuttal has to sting after awhile. Still, she is not some teddy bear waiting to be won for the person who can guess how many jelly beans are in the jar. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says, her voice pure sarcasm. "Am I supposed to _like_ what is going on here? I mean jeez, I might as well be locked in a tower…" She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at the ground in front of her.

"Yeah, what's the deal with that anyway? Why were you even doing the kissing booth?"

She snaps her head up sharply. "It's…" She looks up at the sky. "It's a long story." When Logan waits for her to explain, she expels a sigh. "Suffice to say Clemmons owns my ass for another week, okay? And none of this would be happening if the raccoon had been trained like Winston said it was."

Logan laughs out loud. "Why am I not at all surprised?" he asks, and something about the lightness of his voice makes her crack a grin. Just a small one. She almost wishes for a moment that she could tell Logan all about the raccoon, and Clemmons, and everything. Almost.

It occurs to her again that Logan is being nice to her to win a bet, and her lips curve downward.

_You're an idiot if you think you're having a nice time. None of this is real._

Veronica's ears pick up on sounds of people squealing excitedly, like they _are_ legitimately having a good time. Her head turns in its direction, and she sees the bobbing roof of a bounce house above another row of booths.

She hasn't been in one since she was a child, but she's unfailingly curious and she walks toward it, not at all surprised when Logan matches her speed.

"Huh, we are feeling rambunctious today," Logan observes, eyeing the plastic structure with some skepticism. Maybe because it's hard to be flirtatious and romantic in a small room full of (literally) bouncing adolescents.

Veronica grins.

She lets him pay for entrance (again), slips off her sandals, and crawls inside. Most of the people already in there are kids, but she ignores them, jumping up and down to her heart's content. It's pretty good exercise, and the more she gets breathless the less anxious she feels about Logan. She thinks to herself, isn't there some context where she could simply use him to have a good time tonight? She could make him pay for whatever she wanted, ignore him entirely, and be home before ten?

Veronica knows Logan better than that, and knows that he's not easily ignored. But if she worked hard enough on steeling herself from within, maybe she could remove herself enough from Logan's advances to be able to walk away from this unscathed. Again she calls to mind Duncan Kane and the fact that they were probably going to get back together soon. Dating Logan had been difficult, and she knew all the skeletons in his closet. She'd basically pulled out, dusted off, and catalogued every one.

Despite his clear ability to be charming, did she really want any of Logan in her life just now? _No_. And maybe a good offense is the best defense, anyway. Maybe if she played along with Logan he wouldn't be trying so hard to win her over. Veronica bounces three times in a tight circle, scanning the inflatable house for him. She sees him over at the entrance, leaning inside, watching her. He's got a blue slushy drink in a cup with a lid and a straw.

When he sees her looking, Logan crawls inside and jerks his head to invite her over. Veronica obliges, internally rolling her eyes, and together they sit in a shadowed corner of the bounce house. Because of all the children their shoulders incessantly rub together. Logan offers her some of the blue slush.

"Please tell me this flavor had a name," Veronica drawls, taking the cup and examining the color. She adopts a cool surfer voice. "Blazing blueberry? Rad blue raspberry? Blue lightning blast?"

Logan chuckles. "I think it was just…blue."

Veronica takes a sip and winces because it's so cold. "You ordered just…_blue?_ You missed out Echolls. They must have been out of Liquid Evil." She rolls the slushed ice over her tongue and winces anew. "And how much alcohol did you put in this thing?" She hands it back to him, and finds him a little hesitant looking in the dark.

"Enough," he answers. She can tell he thinks she won't want anymore. Veronica heaves a little sigh, and takes the drink from him again. He's surprised. Veronica ignores him as she takes a long drag on the straw. When she's had enough to give her a brain freeze, she pulls back.

"Mm, yeah, the vodka really enhances the flavor of all the _blue_."

Logan laughs, and leans into her. For the first time, Veronica only bristles internally.

"I'll show you my tongue if you show me yours," he murmurs.

Veronica feels the tiniest of thrills course through her spine, and it has nothing to do with her brain freeze.

"Nice try, Echolls," she says, standing and taking a tentative bounce. He grins up at her, taking another long sip of the impromptu cocktail. There's another little thrill knowing that they've just _swapped spit_ by using the same straw, and Veronica hops until she's facing away from him. She loses track of him until his body is right behind hers, and he has an arm sliding around her belly, and they're jumping in tandem. Logan chuckles behind her head, making a _wee!_ sound because they're still amongst children and this is a childish activity. Rather than mock him for it as he is clearly mocking her, Veronica contents herself with a tight grin and a covert eye roll. She turns to face him and they disentangle. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to need one of these at my next birthday party."

Logan agrees. "Nothing says _I'm legally an adult_ like inflatable multi-colored castles."

Veronica's eyes widen. "They make these in _castles?_ Wow," she jokes, pretending to be impressed. "My party may have to be princess themed."

Logan grins and bounces closer to her, slushy drink still in hand. "I'll wear my best tiara," he promises.

Veronica fights not to grin and grabs the blue drink from Logan's hand. She takes another sip as she bounces, and they bounce until their play session is over. As all the children begin to file out, Logan walks over to her as best he can, his body close.

_Not touching can't get mad_.

She looks up at him through her lashes, mouth on the straw.

"What next Princess?"

Veronica rolls her eyes and swallows the slush in her mouth. She hands the drink back to him. "Oh yeah, like _that _won't get old."

She hops after the kids and gets out of the bounce house, finding her sandals in the pile. Hers are easy to slip on, but Logan has to re-lace his sneakers, and she watches him do so.

The alcohol might be getting to her, she decides, because her frustration from a scant twelve minutes ago is fading. She won't let him kiss her, that's for certain. But she doesn't need to be constantly biting his head off either. Fighting with him isn't getting the results she wants.

Together they wander back towards the rest of the festival, taking turns with the drink, walking in silence.

They walk past a bakery booth run by the pep squad (showing off the fact your parents could donate four thousand dollars' worth of pie never looked so _pink_), and the caricature-drawing booth run by the anime club (big eyes, full hearts, can't lose). The basketball team is hosting a dunk contest and looking intimidating about it, the clearly-high baseball team is selling hot dogs, but Logan and Veronica walk by them all trying to refrain from indulging in colorful commentary or trading jokes. When the baseball team giggles "get your fresh hot wieners!" at you though, you sort of have to share a smile.

"D'you want to get your face painted?"

Veronica looks at the booth's sign and stops. It's a white piece of foam board, and someone clearly took a marker to it last minute and wrote "PAINT FOR FACES" in black. There are three kids from the art club sitting around on stools looking sullen and grumpy, picking at their black fingernail polish.

"He said he wanted to look like _Batman!_" a mother cries, holding onto her wailing child. The high school student in front of her shrugs.

"I do not know this _'bat' 'man'_ to which you refer."

The little kid is sobbing, repeating _mommy, mommy_ over and over as he tries to get away from the mirror which showed him his reflection. "Well wash it off!" the mother demands.

The student pushes a scraggly lock of dyed-black hair behind his shoulder. "Um, we don't even have anything to wash it off. And even if we did, this is art, okay. You should be selling that kid for a million dollars, okay."

The mother huffs indignantly and spins away, holding her Channel purse and hysterical child close to her side. Despite the obvious tear tracks running through the six-year-old's make-up, Veronica is able to make out what looks like a piggy bat's face with a mustache. When the mother and son are out of earshot there is sniggering and subtle high fives.

"Um," Veronica pretends to ponder, "I think I'm going to pass."

Logan is flipping through the book of examples. Between the creepily-accurate looking warts you can have painted all over your hands, or the not-a-cartoon-tiger-but-a-tiger-who-will-maul-you-with-its-bloody-fangs-tiger, Veronica is willing to bet the art club did not have a choice in whether it wanted to staff a booth this year. The traditional rainbow coming from clouds is actually from a unicorn's butt.

"Good choice," Logan agrees, showing her the collection of melted clocks and machetes to choose from.

Veronica feels herself grin, and she realizes the blue is definitely starting to sink in. She is starting to feel it in her fingers and toes. She feels it every time she moves her head too fast.

"Mmk, I gotta get rid of this," Logan says, shaking the empty slushy container. Veronica mentally raises her eyebrows. It hadn't lasted very long. "Don't go anywhere, yeah?"

Veronica shrugs, knowing that Madison Sinclair would hear if she abandoned her 'date' early. Logan grins rakishly and jogs toward the men's room.

She watches him for a moment, wondering how she could actually get away with abandoning this assignment. Maybe she could convince Mac to put on a blond wig and make out with Logan in public. Veronica snorts, and lets the image play in her mind for a moment. _Yeah, right_.

There's a ball pit within Logan's line of sight, so Veronica stops to stare at the kids romping around between the plastic multicolored spheres.

"Doth my eyes deceive me? Is Veronica Mars here with a _date?_"

Veronica rolls her eyes before she even turns around. "Hello, Weevil."

Eli takes the spot next to her, mirroring the way she anchors her forearms on the ball pit's edge.

"Now they say that racecar driving is like a date with the devil, so I can only imagine what _you_ were up to earlier today."

Veronica smirks. "It's not a _date_, Eli, it's a…" she tries to find the right way to explain. "It's a long story."

"But it's not a date," Eli echoes.

"It's not a date," she repeats.

He looks her over, scanning for hidden doubts and hidden fears.

"This is Neptune High," Eli says, turning back to the kids in the pit. "We've all heard. Sean Friedrich is taking bets."

Veronica's spirits dip with her shoulders. She glances quickly at Weevil from the corner of her eye, and frowns. "Do I even want to know?"

Eli smirks and licks his lips. "I've got fifty saying you won't. He gave me good odds too."

"You are probably going to win that bet," she admits, deflating her shoulders just a little bit more. Wait. Deflating? Why does she sound disappointed? It's probably just because she's a source to be bet on at all. _Yeah_. Veronica perks up a little bit.

"You okay though?" he asks, surprising her.

Veronica tries to control her raised eyebrows, but a look at Weevil shows he's serious.

"I mean, I could probably get you out if you wanted. Probably only take one phone call. Maybe only one tire iron."

Maybe it's only because of her recent conversations about princes and princesses, but again Veronica calls to mind the allusion to being rescued like a damsel in distress. It's not a role she's ever wanted to play, and it doesn't sit well with her now.

"I would probably even enjoy it."

Veronica finally allows herself a small smile. "No," she says. "No I'm okay. Thanks though."

Eli dips his head in acknowledgment and offers her a small smile as if to say _Well, the offer stands…_ He looks past her then, over her shoulder, and focuses on something.

"Speaking of enjoying it..."

Veronica turns her head to follow Eli's gaze. Logan is making his way towards them, smiling directly at Veronica. He acknowledges Eli when he comes close enough.

"Weevil." He dips his head.

Eli doesn't mimic the action, but leans back as if to stretch. "Logan," he returns.

Logan glances at Veronica, and offers her his elbow. "Well? Shall we?"

Veronica almost rolls her eyes again.

_Boys._

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><p><strong>One more chapter, mostly because the last part is so looong. Baah I'll post it sometime this week, I hope. Review if you can! Even just a one-word thing works for me. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**SWING LOW SWEET CHARIOT chapter four by AliLamba  
>notes<strong> oh noooo no one laughed at my _bat man_ joke last chapter that was like the best joke i've ever written oh no. oh well. thanks for the kind notes you've left on this story. it's what made me post this today.

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><p><em>Testosterone is such a funny thing<em>, Veronica reflects, wondering if men will ever outgrow the Middle Ages in some regards. On a defeated sigh, she accepts Logan's elbow by hooking her arm through his, and gives Eli a tight-lipped smile. Eli smirks.

"Hey you remember my fifty bucks!" he calls after them, as they start walking away. Veronica smiles for real. Then she tilts her head in Logan's direction.

"Hey did you know that literally every person at this fair knows that you have bet Duncan Kane that I won't make out with you by the end of the night?" She manages to sound mockingly upbeat, as if this is some big news for everyone at the sock hop to hear.

Logan ducks his head, and has the good sense to look a little embarrassed. "No? But it does not surprise me at all." He breathes in deep, and then sighs: "_Go Pirates_..." They take another step. "Wait, how did Weevil bet?"

Veronica smirks at her date. "He doesn't think you have it in you."

Logan stops, turns toward her looking grim, and holds her by both upper arms. "Oh no, Veronica Mars, you did not just say that."

She can't help grinning at him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he agrees, his voice and expression impishly flat. "Now I am going to have to do the high striker."

Veronica laughs, and realizes she's almost having a good time. "Five dollars says I can hit that thing harder than you," she dares, feeling spontaneously playful.

"No," he says, and his expression cracks down the middle and reveals a smile. "If I beat you then I get something else."

Veronica's pulse quickens. "I'm not going to kiss you over a high striker."

"Veronica Mars, oh my goodness, control your lust I said nothing of the sort. But if it's on your mind anyway and you feel like just giving in now to save us another hour of embarrassment..."

It's a joke, and a lame one at that. But her insides warm anyway, and maybe it has something to do with all the blue.

"I want a kiss on the cheek, if I win. If I win you have to kiss me on the cheek."

"No, no deal."

"Oh we are stingy with our kisses now! And here I thought we were modern day feminists."

Veronica frowns. "I'll hold your hand."

"A hug. I want a good proper hug if I beat you."

A part of her knows Logan is going to beat her. There's no way she'll win; she knows what his biceps look like, and currently they're bulging through his jacket like two halves of a rugby ball.

"Fine," she relents. She can play this game. She can pretend he's not going to win.

Veronica approaches the stand with the giant hammer and the scale to hit with it. She waits for Logan to pay for the game, and then she picks up the mallet. It is surprisingly heavy in her arms, and Jimmy Blazack co-captain of the wrestling team smirks at her, because he knows she's not going to do a good job. "Do you want me to put it on the little girl setting?"

"Oh do they have a setting for your mom?" Veronica returns, mock surprise in her voice. She looks at Logan as if this is incredible news. "I had no idea."

The co-captain of the wrestling team shuts up. "By all means then." Veronica gives Jimmy a withering glance and then sizes up her target. She know somewhere Logan is behind her, likely watching the way her ass moves in her jeans. Veronica hoists the giant mallet into her arms, bites her lip, takes aim, and throws the hammer down.

The machine makes an increasingly high whirring sound to emphasize the little piece of plastic shooting up the scale. Veronica watches it go with wide eyes, watching it get closer and closer to the top...and come just shy of the bell. Veronica pouts.

"Nice try Princess," Jimmy _Go Ahead and Call Me Ball Sack_ sneers. Veronica sneers openly back.

Logan takes the mallet from her hands before Veronica can think to do something with it she'll regret.

"I, on the other hand, wouldn't mind the little girl setting." It's enough of a joke to distract her, and Veronica tears her gaze away long enough to watch Logan doff his coat and hand it to her. In the fading light Veronica tries to ignore the way his arms stretch the sleeves of his argyle t-shirt. She purses her lips and looks up at the sky rather than watch the way his muscles ripple as he approaches his target, but then she wonders fleetingly why Logan doesn't go out for wrestling. Why he doesn't go out for any sport at all. He clearly worked out as a hobby, but there didn't seem to be any real purpose in it, besides, well, the obvious reason. Namely the way she unconsciously wets her lips when Logan hoists the mallet over his shoulder.

_Ding ding ding ding!_

The machine goes off almost instantly after being struck, announcing for everyone to hear that Logan had the macho manly muscles to create over 100 pounds of force.

"I do believe I have just proven that force equals mass times acceleration," Logan brags, and he winks at Veronica as he takes his jacket back. "I told you I had Newton's second law tattooed over my heart." Veronica's mind goes momentarily blank as Logan accepts his inflatable hammer prize from Ball Sack Jimmy, because she's surprised that he actually knows Newton's Laws of Motion. She recovers just as quickly, and offers him a very slow clap.

"Congratulations all around, really, you didn't even need the little girl setting."

Logan squints. "I'm pretty sure there is no little girl setting."

"Uh, actually there is—" Jimmy tries to say.

"-_Ahhh_ tut tut tut! No! No there's no such thing!" Veronica protests, feeling weak and needing to defend women everywhere.

Logan has his eyes raised pityingly in the wrestler's direction, but he doesn't turn away from Veronica.

"One hug," Logan reminds her. "One."

"Yeah but no stunts. You get _just_ a _hug_."

Logan approaches her slowly, and when he wraps his arms around her, he isn't shy in the whole biblical sense. In fact, there is no possible way a bible could have fit between their two bodies.

"Oh Veronica," he sighs, as if he's enjoying all the contact and the fact that he's making her squirm.

Veronica is flexing away from him in every way she can, trying hard not to enjoy how warm and gentle he is with her. But then he breathes in deeply, and Veronica accepts that he's just trying to _hug_ her, and she relents. She loosens her frown, gives in, and relaxes her arms around him.

"I hope you are enjoying this," she warns.

"Mmm I am," he murmurs back.

He smells nice.

Veronica jerks back almost immediately, and she is unnerved to feel like her heart is in her throat.

"Okay, that's enough." She tries to recover her nerves, and tries to adopt a swagger of indifference. "Next?"

Logan smiles at her lazily. "Ladies choice," he offers, magnanimously. She feels warm and overheated all over, and her nerves feel jumpy.

Veronica almost indulges the impulse to fan herself.

She ignores Logan and scans the surrounding area to find something else to do, something that doesn't have him looking at her in the way he is looking at her presently. Veronica's eyes light up on a water gun target game.

She walks over with purpose, and seats herself on one of the stools. Someone from the lacrosse team is already seated next to her, his long-term girlfriend standing behind his shoulder with bored disdain in her eyes. It's the same disdain Angie Dahl's been sporting for two days, while taunting Veronica about what a slut she is for being part of the kissing booth. When she sees Logan following behind, Angie smirks, and Veronica knows the girl's heard about the bet and is not at all surprised to see Veronica whoring herself out like she so obviously intended from the start.

"Having fun, Veronica Mars?" Angie taunts, placing a caressing hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. He doesn't stop texting someone on his phone.

"So much fun," Veronica jokes, making her voice sound mockingly sincere. "I already got three STDs. Three! One more and the record's mine!"

Angie's wearing the shortest denim miniskirt Veronica has ever seen, and so much frosted eye shadow and frosted lipstick she may as well be a snowman. Or the inspiration for of a new color of slushy.

_Frosted Shallow Bitch_ could work.

Angie sneers and flips her hair, focusing instead on the game in front of them. She settles her breasts on her boyfriend's shoulders just because she can, and directs his attention back to the game (and the fact she is still alive and present). Angie's boyfriend looks legitimately surprised to see her again.

Veronica grins in a way that makes her realize she's still got some blue in her veins. She looks up to see whether Logan also finds her joke amusing, but finds him looking elsewhere. Specifically, she finds him looking at Angie Dahl.

"You playing?"

Logan's attention shifts back to Veronica, and there's a tightness in his gaze that wasn't there a second ago. Veronica tries to decide whether she cares to know why. The question sits in her throat, and she recognizes that it would take some force to move her tongue out of the way to voice it. It's vaguely uncomfortable there, but before she can make up her mind one way or the other, Logan smiles at her and shakes his head dismissively.

Logan pays the sophomore operating the booth, and Veronica turns to squint down at her target. It's a tiny red dot in a series of larger multi-colored rings, set below a board showing five horses at a starting line intent on moving horizontally. She's not such a great shot (you don't need to be when your weapon of choice simply requires contact) but this doesn't look hard. The better aim you have, the faster your little racehorse moves along the track as it competes with everyone else's.

Veronica resolves to ignore Angie, and grabs both handles of her water gun securely.

The buzzer sounds, the water turns on, and Veronica tilts her water gun so that the sharp stream of water will hit the target. It almost does, and Veronica laughs. She hears a choking sound from behind, and before she knows it, Logan's body is wrapped around hers, and his hands cover hers, and he's helping angle the water gun just right.

Veronica loses focus on the target. Her eyes light up when she sees her racehorse moving along the racetrack, but it's still half a nose behind Angie's. Logan scoffs for the both of them.

"Hey Martin," he calls out, getting Veronica and the lacrosse player's attention. "Do you still have the crabs that Vanessa Westbrook gave you last month? Or I guess they have special shampoo for that, huh."

There's a startled gasp to Veronica's left, and then Martin's water gun loses its target before Angie 'Frosted' Dahl starts stomping away.

Veronica laughs to Logan's grin beside her face, and when their mechanical horse crosses the finish line in first place Veronica stands excitedly and allows Logan to grab her into a spontaneous hug that lifts her off the ground.

When he puts her back down, shirt bunching up her belly, Veronica is having a hard time not smiling.

"Low blow, Echolls," Veronica chides, but her eyes are still laughing. Logan shrugs. Then Veronica looks at the sophomore, leaning back in Logan's arms.

"Hey, where's my bear," she demands.

Veronica turns the plastic water pistol over in her hands. It's not a bear, and she hasn't filled it up yet, but that doesn't mean it's not a fun toy for the moment.

"Someone's in a better mood."

Veronica shrugs again. She aims the pistol at him. "Maybe it's because I have protection. One more attempt at funny business, mister and you're gonna get it."

Logan raises an eyebrow at her. "If you get me wet I'll have to take my shirt off."

Another little thrill sweeps through her at the thought. "Well then I'll finally be able to call your bluff on that tattoo."

He stops in front of her. His lips are curved into a tiny little smile. "You wanna check now?" he dares.

Veronica feels her heart rate pick up. "No," she whispers, and her voice only falters a little.

Logan breathes a soft snort of laughter through his nose, and grins appreciatively. "I think you're lying."

Veronica forces her lips into some sort of frown.

"Me? Lie? Never."

Logan ducks into her space, and taps her nose.

"Your nose is growing."

Veronica feels her stomach flip, and her tongue gets wetter.

Logan turns and looks around their immediate surroundings. Veronica watches him look, only a little concerned with what could be on his mind.

"Okay," Logan decides. "You picked the last one. It's my turn."

Before she can open her mouth to protest against the idea of _turns_, Logan grabs her hand and starts tugging her toward a short line. Veronica's eyes widen and when she realizes where he's going.

"Oh no," she says, pulling back. "No. No way. Not going to happen."

* * *

><p>Veronica is pouting over her restraint bar.<p>

"Oh come on, it's not that bad."

Veronica glares at Logan. Not only are there seven people on the ground staring right at their Ferris wheel car playing _how to make Veronica blow her lid __the fastest_, but Logan's thigh keeps rubbing against hers, and the blue slush is starting to wear off.

"_Better kiss him before you turn into a toad!_" someone shouts from below. "_I mean, less of a toad than you are now!"_

Veronica grits her teeth against something crude to say back. Something like _Why don't you come up here and kiss my ass instead_. It would only add up to a fight, and that's the last thing she needs right now.

"Ah just ignore them," Logan suggests, in the cavalier way he can. It helps that those seven people on the ground are all his buddies, and that he could call them off himself at any moment.

"I'm sure it would just be way too gentlemanly to request your friends go somewhere else for twenty minutes?" Veronica suggests. Logan agrees (that it would be way too gentlemanly) with a fussy little hand gesture. It makes Veronica stick her tongue firmly to the roof of her mouth to save it from her teeth.

She huffs back into her seat and stares into the gathering night.

"So Duncan seems _smitten."_

If they gave out awards for non-sequiturs,Logan would've just won for people's choice. The way he says the last word with an edge to it makes Veronica turn to her date. "Excuse me?" she asks, sounding frustratingly breathless all of a sudden. She turns away, hugging her arms more closely to her chest. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Logan looks at her for a long moment, his eyes blank. "I'm in your journalism class, remember? That thing we do first period?" He lets that sit for a minute, and then turns away from her.

"I'm considering submitting 300 words on _Why Duncan Kane is Staring at Veronica Mars All the Time When He Thinks No One Is Watching._"Veronica shakes her head. She doesn't believe him. "It has a twist ending though," Logan adds, dismissively, tearing apart their ticket stubs distractedly. "Turns out he's profiling you for the FBI's most wanted."

Veronica rolls her eyes and turns away, in part to hide the way her teeth catch the inside of her cheek. She's not so surprised that Logan noticed Duncan's staring, mostly because Veronica's noticed his staring too. What's unnerving at the moment is the marked absence of butterflies in her stomach, and it's _that_ more than anything giving her pause.

She's thought about this, a lot. Veronica wants to get back with Duncan, really she does, because Duncan is sweet, and gentle, and kind. In her life full of stun guns, chasing down thugs, and pit bulls who should be better at attacking on command than they are...she's been starting to think how nice it would be, to have such a simple positive presence in her life.

"I'll take that to mean it's reciprocal then," Logan drawls. He throws a tiny piece of wadded paper over the railing and watches it fall into space. His voice turns high-pitched and mocking. "What a surprise. Golden boy and golden girl, together to make little golden babies with cerulean eyes and perfect teeth."

"I'm far from anyone's golden girl," Veronica protests. She sinks into her corner of the Ferris wheel car, frowning against a sudden chill.

"You were mine."

His voice is so small she almost doesn't hear it, and Veronica turns to look at him without taking a breath.

"Logan-"

"I'm serious Veronica." He slides closer to her, putting one arm along the top of the backrest and the other over the handlebar across her lap. "You were, you know, the one for me."

She knows how wide her eyes must look. "Logan, I-"

"I know I fucked up. I know you don't want me, but Veronica..."

He looks down at her lips. Instinctually, she looks down at his, and she watches him wet his own slowly in clear preparation. _Oh crap._

His head dips, and she can feel the warmth from his body bleed through to her own goose-pimpled flesh. She can feel the heat of his breath on her nose, and the little space beneath, and suddenly there is but a puff of air between their gently parted lips. Veronica gulps, her eyes wide.

"_Hey Veronicaaaaa!_" A cloying voice calls from below. "_You gonna get that car rockin' or what?_"

It might as well have been a clap of thunder for all it did for Veronica's psyche. She springs back, throwing out her arms to push Logan away. He looks frustrated and disheartened, a hand in his hair as he looks up at the sky as if to blame it for cock blocking him.

"N-nice try," she says, smoothing down one side of her hair. "Being cocky didn't work, getting me tipsy didn't work, so now you gotta try romance. Well done."

Logan rolls his eyes. He looks away.

"Well it was either that or get an evil queen to curse you asleep."

Veronica glances below their cab. "No shortage of those around here," she observes, wondering if she's really seeing Madison Sinclair away from her booth and on the ground below. She'd probably shut the thing down because of excessive demand.

"Wait," Veronica says, her mind finally catching up to his insinuation. "Are you trying to tell me you think _you're _my true love's kiss?"

"Uh," Logan says, joining in on the joke, "did I not display my obvious feats of strength? Did I not procure you a bear?" Veronica smirks and rolls her eyes. "C'mon princess," he continues, "who's princelier than _me._"

"I don't really think you want me to answer that," Veronica volleys. "You _have_ met my dog, right."

"Oh the lady wounds me!" Logan laments, his voice high but gamely once again. It doesn't help that they are at about ten o'clock on their journey around the Ferris wheel, and that the gaggle of obnoxious onlookers is coming ever nearer.

Logan relaxes his arm over the cab's backrest again. It doesn't go unnoticed by Veronica that his fingers are close to her hair. Particularly when she feels him brushing at it, like the way someone runs their fingers through tall grass when walking through a field of it.

"How come no Wallace or Mac tonight?" Logan asks, his voice shifting gears. Veronica's not sure why she doesn't pull away from Logan's hand right away. Maybe it's because it feels nice. Maybe because she's a little tired. But Logan's quiet voice and his gentle hands lull her into an odd sense of intimacy.

"They were busy," she says, even though it's a lie. "No, I asked them not to come. Didn't want them to see me like that."

Logan's hand reaches her neck, and it's too much. Veronica leans away, and out of Logan's reach. "Wallace would've punched me too," Logan guesses on a sigh, and Veronica has to agree. She presses her lips together at the dejectedness in Logan's voice, and then flings off strange feelings in her gut to roll her eyes.

"The Dalai Lama would've punched you for what you did."

Logan snorts with a small laugh and then looks down at his lap. Maybe he assesses how much of his chest is showing with the stretched collar Duncan gave him.

"Why'd you kiss me, anyway?"

It takes Veronica a moment to realize she's the one who'd asked. When she looks at Logan he looks like he thinks she's being purposefully daft.

"You're joking, right?"

Veronica shakes her head. "No. Why'd you do it, Logan?"

Logan rubs a hand over his nonexistent stubble. He averts his gaze, and by the look of it he's trying to plan what he wants to say next.

"It's just-" he tries. Veronica frowns. "I mean-" he tries again. He looks at her, and everything about his expression is suddenly earnest and quiet.

"Why would I ever pass up the chance to kiss you again."

He seems so achingly serious and for a moment, Veronica doesn't know what to say. She thinks it must be some ploy of his, but he looks too sincere. He looks too honest and unaffected, and Veronica isn't sure what to make of that.

They're both distracted by the small cluster of cat callers waiting for them at the end of the orbit. Sean and Beaver are pretending to make out with one another, to the incredible amusement of everyone else nearby.

"_So?_" Luke wants to know, his hands cupped around his mouth even though they're now within easy speaking distance. "Is it done yet? Can we go party now or what?"

Logan discretely checks his watch. "I still got...thirty-seven minutes, homes, don't worry about it. The lady _will_ cave to my Dr. Pepper flavored chapstick."

Hearing that she had barely three quarters of an hour left to survive should have made her feel happy. But the strangest thing happened just then: Veronica felt almost...disappointed.

* * *

><p>They walk away in silence, both attempting to ignore the jeers and rude comments from Logan's friends behind them.<p>

"Thirty-seven minutes, huh," Veronica observes for something to say. "I guess it's time for a Hail Mary now, right?"

Logan snorts, and then looks past her. "Speaking of Hail Marys…" Veronica follows his gaze, and then feels her eyebrows twist sardonically.

"Mirror maze? Really?"

"Oh yeah," Logan says, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to the erected structure. "Nothing says romance like seeing what we would look like fat, or having weirdoes in gorilla masks jump out at us when they think we can't see them."

"Mirror maze?" she questions again, her expression going tight. "Really?"

Logan grins, and tugs on their conjoined hands. "C'mon, don't question it."

Veronica does (question it), and she purses her lips distastefully. She doesn't like the idea of being trapped in there with him, or being trapped with all of the reflections of her and Logan together. She doesn't like the idea of people huddling around corners waiting to jump out and taunt them.

Logan tugs her again toward the entrance, and Veronica relents on a sigh. The night is almost over, anyway, and she still has the bare remnants of a buzz. She'll let him try whatever he thinks will work at this point.

At least it's not a Tunnel of Love.

Logan doesn't drop her hand. He holds it through the mostly empty line, and Veronica frowns at the music emanating from within the building. It's loud and jarring, intent to distract and disarm. She sees bundles of freshmen funneling out of the exit, all looking exhilarated and breathless. This starts to seem like a bad idea.

"Maybe we can go back on the Ferris wheel," she suggests, and Logan chuckles under his breath. They walk easily to the front of the line, where a stoned-looking senior Veronica barely recognizes takes five bucks and waves them in.

They're barely through the front door, and Veronica has to blink to adjust to the light, because there is none. For a moment they are plunged into darkness, and all Veronica is aware of are the sounds of Logan breathing, the droning techno music, and the feeling of Logan's hand around hers. Her pulse quickens. Then Logan takes a step forward, and Veronica follows.

They walk through another door, and the lights in here are the ultra violet kind that make teeth and neon colors glow. The diamonds in Logan's shirt turn purple. Together they look at their reflection in side by side mirrors, and Veronica groans, frowning at her exaggerated likeness. "Does my butt look big to you?" she whines, on an inflated version of a girly voice. She half spins away for emphasis, but when Logan grins and looks her over she realizes it was a bad idea.

"Okay, knock it off," she protests in her normal voice. Logan's grin deepens.

"Your ass is perfectly shaped," he says, and it sounds like he means it. Veronica attempts to roll her eyes again, but fails. She swallows, and then moves them both forward.

They move through a room of erratically placed mirrors all warped for different effects. One shows them with giant heads, another with torsos six feet long.

"I always wanted to know what I'd look like tall," Veronica says, pausing before the convex mirror which shows her this illusion.

"I like you short," Logan argues, and he grins down at her softly. Maybe it's that softness, or maybe it's that his teeth are still purple, but if Veronica had a retort she can't think of it in the moment. She turns away, and moves them forward again. A group of middle-schoolers race past them, moving into the next room full-force.

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or one of the seven signs of the apocalypse."

Logan laughs softly under his breath. "Only one way to find out…"

They walk to the doorway for the next section together, and have to stand for a moment to let their eyes adjust. Here there are mirrors in every which direction, but none of them are warped. Instead they're all floor-length pieces of reflective glass set into series of walls, giving the mirror maze its specific distinction.

"Ah. Yes. This."

Veronica sounds less than thrilled.

"Only one way out," someone says from beside them, making Veronica jump. She hadn't seen him. This second stoned-looking student gestures vaguely in front of them. "No backsies."

Veronica purses her lips at him, but sees Logan examining her from the corner of her eye. She takes a deep breath, and takes a step forward.

Together they walk into the maze. Veronica feels her heart thumping inside her chest for no good reason. She's never been very good at small spaces, and the corridors here are tight. She knows the hand stuffed into her pocket is clammy, and vaguely she wonders if the hand Logan holds feels the same. She'd almost forgotten they were still connected like that, but she's too busy mentally mapping the path ahead and behind to really care whether they're still touching.

Veronica is just deciding whether to take the left or right fork up ahead when they meet their first gorilla.

"_YAH!_" the student yells, and Veronica almost manages to turn her shriek and leap into an unaffected skip. Almost. She instinctually curves closer to Logan and grimaces as the gorilla slinks back into its hiding place.

"It's okay," Logan says, and his voice sounds legitimately reassuring. "Pretty sure that was Stu Cobbler…"

Veronica agrees dismissively that it could have been Stu Cobbler, and presses on. "Let's just get this over with," she says, too earnestly. Logan squeezes their conjoined hands and releases the pressure all at once. Veronica takes a steadying breath.

They pause in front of the fork, but before they can make a decision there is a loud clamor of noise from behind. Veronica's eyes widen and she whips her head around. Another group of tweens is shrieking as they meet Stu in his costume, the thuds of their small feet on the ground indicating how fast they're moving. And then the group moves past the gorilla, and they don't seem to be letting up speed.

"Logan?" she says, trying to warn him of the incoming parade. It's too late though. The group splits; Veronica and Logan's hands snap apart as one half pushes Veronica down the right-sided path, moving so quickly Veronica has to concentrate so as not to fall over her own feet or impale herself on a twelve-year-old. She staggers to a mirrored wall and presses herself into it, staring wide-eyed at the peloton as she tries to catch her breath. When the last tween is screaming his way down the corridor, Veronica inhales deeply, picks up her feet and determinedly retraces her steps. "Logan?" she calls out, trying to guess whether he could hear her over the music blaring through the speakers.

She finds the fork (she thinks – everywhere literally looks the same), but Logan is nowhere to be found. "_Logan?_" she tries again, and she cranes her neck trying to hear sounds of his voice. She hears the squeals of kids not so far off, the guttural yells of gorillas, and auto tune, and that's it.

_Shit._

Her heart thuds against her ribcage as Veronica realizes she's alone. She walks down the left path, one hand secured to her opposite elbow and tight against her body. Her eyebrows are pinched, and she tries to remember to breathe evenly. She tries to ignore how pale she looks in every reflective surface. _It's just a maze, it's just a maze, it's just a maze. There is an exit. There is an entrance. They're just kids. They're just kids you probably know, like Stu Cobbler. That's it, just think of Stu Cobbler._

When someone probably not Stu Cobbler jumps out at her from around the next bend, Veronica unabashedly cries out.

She flinches away from whoever it is, retracting her hands against her own body as she shakes her head and presses on. She tries to imagine what the maze looks like from above, but she's lost her place. She knows there's a theory about mazes; that if you keep turning left, or you keep turning right, eventually you have to find an exit. No, or it was something like…if you hold your hand on one wall, maybe your left hand, and you never let your hand leave the wall, eventually you'll have to find an exit.

Veronica stops herself and closes her eyes. She tries to take a deep breath. _Yes, that sounds right._ She swallows against the hard lump in her throat, opens her eyes, and almost holds out her hand to the glass. It makes her feel stupid though. The paths are barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and it just doesn't seem like a complicated enough maze to have to rely on that sort of thinking. Logan must be somewhere, because the maze itself only has so much space. She's sure of it.

_Just keep walking_.

The lighting is erratic, strobes mashing with neon greens. Veronica presses on, her lips dry and tight together. Her skin feels cold and her palms feel flushed, and her heart feels heavy in her throat. The Veronicas that look back at her from the mirrors almost look sick.

She almost walks right past it.

In fact, she does walk right past it, the first time.

Veronica grinds to a halt, takes two steps backward, and sees it.

The paneled mirror is tilted, just two inches into the walkway. Veronica stops and turns to look behind her, wondering if someone is going to come running out at her any moment. She checks the gap in the mirror, thinking to herself that if someone _was_ going to jump out at her again, they would have done it already.

Curiosity makes her wet her lips, and find the edge of the panel. She pulls it back, and then squints to see through the darkness behind.

And her eyes go a little wide.

_It's a door_.

In fact, it's an _emergency exit._

Veronica feels her heart hammer heavily in her chest. She looks behind her again, and then looks forward. She's pretty sure that despite the obvious fire hazard she's not supposed to see this, and the fact that the mirrored panel swings back and forth like a door confirms some of these suspicions.

Temptation pulls at her, lurching inside her ribcage.

_You could leave now. You could just leave, and screw it – screw Clemmons, and Madison, and Duncan…and Logan._

_And Logan_.

Veronica swallows again, trying to push some of the fear from her stomach. She could just leave, she reckons. The night is almost over, and she could imagine Logan would be able to saunter back to his friends with palms upturned and empty. Eli would win his fifty bucks.

Veronica looks down at the ground in front of her.

Every bit of her being is telling her to run, and run now. Logan would understand, probably. Duncan would understand that Veronica hadn't been able to go through with it, and maybe sometime next week they'd be back on track to being boyfriend and girlfriend again.

But Veronica is frowning at the floor now, and she doesn't completely understand why. Even though she can rationalize that this is an easy escape, she's not doing it. And the longer she spends not doing it the more she realizes that she's _not going to do it._

Veronica grimaces and swings the door shut on a heavy shove. She bows her head, and collects her spinning thoughts. She can't help thinking of analogies about _doors closing_, but she doesn't stop to dwell on it. Veronica looks over her shoulder in the way she was heading before she found the exit. She exhales a tumultuous breath, and then picks up her feet and starts moving. Veronica doesn't stop to think at every split in the road; she picks a direction on impulse. And just as she's starting to wonder how much longer they'll let her wander in there before someone turns the regular lights on…she sees him.

"Logan!" Veronica calls out, and he spins immediately in her direction.

His pinched expression melts when he recognizes her, and Logan takes the few long strides it takes to be close enough to draw her up in his arms. He holds her tight, tighter than he should, really, but Veronica lets him. She lets him because she was scared too, and she hadn't liked being alone. She lets him for reasons that made her close that mirrored door.

"I thought I'd lost you," Logan admits, and there is an edge to his voice that Veronica finds unnerving, because it makes her heart beat faster again.

"I know," she says. "I'm here."

Logan holds her chin between two soft hands, and they feel as cold as hers did when she was lost. Logan examines every inch of her face, and she sees his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

Logan exhales. "I want to kiss you right now," he admits.

Now it's Veronica's turn to swallow, but she stares resolutely into Logan's eyes and doesn't look away. She's not more scared hearing his confession than she was when she was lost and alone, and for the first time all night, Veronica has to consciously quell the desire to boost herself on tiptoe and kiss him herself.

It's an irrational thought, she tells herself, watching Logan's gaze dart between each of her eyes, his lips pressed together tightly with concern all for her.

_No one would know_, she reckons. If she were to kiss Logan in this setting, no one would know that she'd done it, and she imagines - considering the sincerity in Logan's expression - that he would hold their secret if she asked him to.

Veronica tears her gaze away, looks down between their bodies, and lets the moment pass.

_Now is not the time_.

She shakes her head, and Logan's hands drop to her shoulders, and then settle on her upper arms.

"No, no," she says. "Let's just get out of here."

She softens the blow by looking up at him with a small, tight smile, even though she doesn't feel one hundred percent happy with her choice. She knows the smile doesn't reach her eyes, because Logan mirrors her expression.

"Okay," he agrees. He cycles a cleansing breath through his nose and mouth, and then turns in the direction he was heading already. He takes her hand again, and together they start walking forward.

"I swear though, if one more gorilla jumps out at me I'm going to punch it square in the face."

Veronica cracks a legitimate grin, and she tilts her head up to see Logan's pale expression. For a few steps she watches him, letting the fact that he'd been scared sink in. It makes her think.

An uneventful two turns later, and Veronica and Logan find the exit together. Logan expels another breath and squeezes Veronica's hand in his own. "Bout damn time," he grumbles, and then he frowns, covertly checking his watch.

Veronica bites the inside of her cheek. Their time is probably up, she realizes, and again she feels that distracting pang of…disappointment. She might have had a good time after all.

The bright lights of normality make them blink and squint for a second as they emerge from the exit. The maze's soundtrack fades amidst the loud conversations of fair-goers all around.

They start walking aimlessly forward, not letting go of each other's hands, not saying anything either. Veronica can't think of anything to say. She's pretty sure Logan can't think of anything either. They walk past a booth, and see the chess club packing up their boards. Veronica feels her heart sink, and she frowns, knowing that their three hours are up indeed.

Suddenly there is a chorus of jeers and applause from up ahead, and Veronica looks up to see Logan's friends standing a few hundred feet in front of them, whistling at their closeness.

Veronica instinctually drops Logan's hand and moves a half step away from him, pressing her hand against the strap of her book bag instead. It's been slung over her shoulder all evening, and she tries to focus on that as she ignores the way Logan's expression tightens, and he tries to force himself into a more unaffected walking pattern. Veronica squints at the group waiting for them, seeing Madison and Duncan edge their way to the front of the crowd. She's pretty sure she sees Weevil skulking some distance away from them, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Well?" Duncan shouts, when they're within shouting distance. "Did you do it? Did you_ seal the deal?_"

Veronica's lips tighten into a frown, maybe because it's a jarring expression coming from Duncan's mouth.

She catches Logan looking at her, his expression guarded.

"Nope," he admits, and the two of them come to a stop in front of the gathered crowd. "The lady was immune to my charms after all."

"Ha!" Duncan shouts, a smug gleam to his eye. He leans back on his heels and grins. "I knew you couldn't do it. I knew you couldn't close her."

Duncan smirks, and Logan says nothing.

And it shouldn't have…Veronica really wish it didn't…but Duncan's face is giving her very pure flashbacks to every smug 09er who'd ever taunted her for being _less-than_. Less-than rich, less-than reckless, less-than promiscuous.

_Really?_

Veronica openly stares at him, absolutely aghast. _Really? "_You couldn't _close her?"_

Without even thinking, Veronica grabs Logan's chin with a clawed hand, shoots a last repulsed glance at Duncan, and then pulls Logan's face down to her own.

Sounds of the crowd dim as Veronica pushes herself into the kiss one hundred percent. She knows Logan eventually wraps an arm around her back, and she knows that their kiss morphs into something resembling making out, and then she knows she lets her thoughts fade.

Kissing Logan is familiar, and warm, and satisfying. When she pulls back looking into Logan's opening eyes, it is with a small, private smirk, to communicate with Logan that she enjoyed his mouth for this one-time-only deal.

Logan seems to read her thoughts. His matching grin communicates that he knows the kiss was mostly to let Veronica be Veronica, and that he is not to expect more.

"Guess that's over then," Veronica presumes, adopting an air of helplessness as she turns back to the crowd. "Sorry Duncan, better luck next time."

_Better luck next time_.

Madison tries to say something intended to slut-shame her, but the girl's voice is drowned out by all of Logan's buddies hollering and crowing. They surround their friend offering high-fives and back-slaps, and Logan lets himself dissolve in them. After a moment he looks up, and finds Veronica's eyes in the crowd.

She grins at him; a small, reserved grin meant to show she didn't mind. When Veronica turns away she finds Duncan with his jaw hanging open, looking between Veronica, Logan and the middle distance with no insignificant amount of confusion.

She walks past him, offering a consoling pat on the back as she goes.

"Never bet against Veronica Mars," she sighs, and she continues walking without waiting for him to respond.

It takes a few hundred feet for her to control the smile on her face, and another hundred to realize she's actually walking toward the parking lot and not in some abstract direction.

"_Veronica!_"

She stops when she hears her name, in part because she recognizes Logan's voice. She waits as he jogs up to her, hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking vaguely abashed. She resumes walking when he's at her elbow.

"So…" he says, and Veronica grins in spite of him and his newfound shyness. "I guess I owe you five hundred bucks."

Veronica rolls her eyes. A part of her had almost forgotten how this all started. "I may collect on that someday," she says instead, her voice low with good humor. Logan chuckles.

She wants to ask him whether he meant any of the things he'd said to her that night, but a part of her – the part in the middle of her ribcage, the part warming from within – knows he meant every word. She knows that she can still feel the burn of his lips against hers, and she wets her own, wondering whether she'll kiss him again anytime soon.

She kind of wants to.

Veronica laughs at herself, looking at the sky in humility.

"What's so funny?" Logan asks, absorbing her humor.

Veronica shakes her head. "I'll tell you when I see that five hundred bucks," she says, and she turns to start walking again. Logan falls in next to her.

They're in the parking lot, and Veronica sees her LeBaron coming up right ahead. A part of her would feel disappointed if she didn't feel so light and airy inside.

"So…" Logan says, drawing her attention. They stop in front of her car, and Veronica turns to him, catching the way he scratches at the back of his neck and squints one eye. "So I kind of want to call you," he says, and it's more question than statement.

"Oh yeah?" Veronica returns, smiling up at him. "How much will it cost next time, a thousand?"

Logan laughs under his breath and looks at his shoes.

"No I was thinking more like … twenty bucks on a pizza."

She waits until he looks up at her, until he can see how brightly she's smiling.

"That sounds nice." Veronica tilts her head and bites her lower lip, almost as if she's reconsidering. "Maybe we'll do that sometime. Maybe after the next school function." She adds the last part as half a joke, half a warning that she hasn't completely given into the idea.

Logan seems to know this implicitly, because he wets his lip to break up his big smile.

"Well," Logan offers, bending a little at the waist to show he cared. "Until the next school function."

Veronica offers him a tight-lipped smile in return, trying to control her cheeks.

"Until then," she agrees.

Logan looks for a moment like he'd like to say something to prolong the conversation, or like he he'd like to make-out with her again, but he stops himself. He finally looks her in the eye, smiles again, and then turns on his heel, fishing his keys from the pocket of his jeans as he walks resolutely to his Xterra.

Veronica grins, indulging the warmth spreading through her diaphragm. _Logan Echolls, what a dork._

She pulls her bag away from her body so she can find her own keys, but then she gasps instead.

Sitting on top of her keys, and her book, and her wallet, is a stuffed teddy bear. Specifically the teddy bear that Logan won for her, in a game of skill, just like he'd promised. Veronica doesn't even remember him putting it in there, but she smiles brightly at the gesture, and _almost_ looks around for Logan to call him back. Almost.

Something like this probably deserves a make-out session, she decides, smiling into her bag. She hears the squeal of rubber tires on pavement as Logan peels out onto the street. Their make-out session could wait, she decides. They had time.

* * *

><p>It's maybe an hour after all the lights in her room are turned off that Veronica realizes she's still wide awake. Part of her brain keeps reliving the night's events and making her smile, and the other part keeps taunting her to call…someone. Veronica tries to glare good-naturedly at the bear sitting on her desk, staring back at her blankly from beside her stapler. "I am not putting you in my bed," she tells the bear, grinning. Veronica shakes her head at her own ridiculousness, and then she reaches over and turns the bear around, flopping back on her pillows resolving to finally get some shut-eye.<p>

There's a chirp from her bedside table. Veronica opens her eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment, wondering who could've texted her at this late hour. Her dad is asleep on the other side of their shared wall, she'd already talked to Wallace and Mac when they called in a tizzy after hearing everything from someone else, so…who?

Veronica flips open her phone, letting the glow of the screen illuminate her face in the dark. It's a text from Logan, but she doesn't let herself smile even though she dearly wants to.

_I hear there's going to be a parade for St. Patrick's Day…_

Okay, so she can't help it after all. Veronica grins, tosses the phone childishly at her pillows, and flops over to try and get some sleep.

They most definitely had time.

* * *

><p><strong>The end. I don't know why I love this supremely dorky fic so much, but I do. I hope you do too, and that you have time to leave a review. All comments appreciated especially if they inadvertently rhyme. Thank you for reading.<strong>


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